


Trope #25

by PepperF



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3933388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cold gets into your bones and won't let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From this milady_milord prompt: ["Jeff and Annie sharing a blanket during the cold night on the road trip."](http://milady-milord.livejournal.com/1263739.html?thread=18579579#t18579579)
> 
> Sorry, this probably wasn't exactly what you had in mind!

Abed had declared the episode finished, which was all well and good for the Dean's story arc, but as far as Jeff was concerned, there were a few loose ends that needed tidying up. For one thing, they were still stuck in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, with no power. For another, there was no goddamn booze.

He'd searched – sneakily, when no one was looking, because they kept making a big deal about it for some reason – but there was absolutely nothing in the whole stupid RV – no whiskey, no vodka, no sticky crap brought back from holiday that only got brought out when all the drinkable stuff had gone... not even a light beer. He had to face it: he was going to have to survive the night stone cold sober.

It was a horrifying thought.

And speaking of stone cold, the temperature had dropped so much now that he was beginning to shiver – but despite that, somehow everyone else seemed to have gone to sleep. Elroy had taken the bed, and had grudgingly allowed Abed to share it with him – seriously, there was no fat on the kid, and they were all a bit worried he might actually freeze to death. The Dean was draped uncomfortably over the passenger seat, looking like a cross between Moby and an octopus, and Annie was wrapped in a tight ball in the driver's seat, close by Jeff's shoulder. Britta and Frankie were leaning against one another, across the Formica table from Jeff. Several people were snoring. Jeff was at a horrible angle on the tiny, fixed sofa/bench thing, his head ached, he couldn't get to sleep, and he was trying to decide which to go for first, homicide or suicide.

Sometimes, Jeff hated his life – and sometimes he really, REALLY hated his life.

Annie shifted restlessly, and he looked up just in time to see her foot slip off the seat, and her whole body fall towards him. He reached out instinctively, just in time to catch her as she tried to take a header over the dividing wall.

"Whoa!"

They froze, staring at the others. Britta gave a kind of hiccup-cough, and then resumed snoring. No one else reacted. 

With a relieved sigh – seriously, he was sick of the lot of them, and didn't want to speak to them for at least a few hours – Jeff turned to Annie, and tried to push her back into her seat. She scrabbled to help, but gravity was against her, and she only ended up falling further forward. "Okay, no, I – gah!" she hissed, nearly falling, and with a huff, Jeff gave up and just pulled her over the wall and onto his lap. "Jeff!"

" _Shh_. Look, I'm about to freeze to death, and you don't feel much warmer, so how about we...?" He raised his eyebrows, and she gave him a wide-eyed, shocked look. "I'm suggesting we cuddle to stay alive, Annie," he added, acidly. "I'm not making advances, okay – dirty mind much?"

"Ohhhh. Okay. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I am _freezing_."

Finding a comfortable position wasn't easy while also trying not to wake five other people, but eventually they found a workable solution. Jeff had both legs stretched out along the bench, feet dangling off the end, and Annie was sideways in his lap, leaning against his chest, with her head on his shoulder, one arm around him, and her knees resting on the table. They were wedged in tightly, with one blanket around their shoulders and the other over their legs. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but at least they were both warm at last. Jeff gave one last shudder as the cold began to leave him. He tightened his arms around Annie, leaning his cheek on her head, and feeling like maybe he could relax at last.

But apparently Annie wasn't quite ready to go to sleep yet. "Jeff?" she whispered.

"Mm?"

"You were kind of mean to Abed today."

Jeff was quiet as he thought about it. He had been kind of mean to Abed, it was true. He'd lashed out, and he wasn't sure exactly why. He just felt... uncertain around him at the moment, like Abed had got wind of one of his deepest, darkest secrets and was holding it over him, or something. He found he couldn't quite meet the kid's eyes. But that was crazy, right? Abed didn't have any secrets on him – and even if he did, he was totally trustworthy, he'd never do anything to hurt Jeff. Not on purpose, anyway.

Jeff blinked, staring into the night. It was crazy. It WAS crazy. This crushing feeling of impending doom? Completely crazy, and he needed to just stop it, stop feeling like this.

God, he could really do with a drink.

"I was kinda mean," he agreed, gruffly. "Sorry. I'll make it up to him. This whole stupid hand thing got me in a bad mood, I don't know why."

"Hmm." She didn't sound very convinced. "It's not just today though, is it, Jeff?"

Jeff didn't answer. He didn't particularly want to talk about it – quite frankly, he had no idea where to start – but no, it wasn't just today.

"Oh, Jeff." 

"I'll be okay," he said. It wasn't exactly the strongest argument he'd ever made, but mercifully she let it slide. He could feel her breath brush his neck when she sighed quietly.

"You'll be okay," she echoed. It sounded like a promise.

Jeff closed his eyes, and for a while, he let himself believe her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tiny sequel, as prompted by Bethany, because apparently her wish is my command. :)

A noise woke Jeff, and he blinked dazedly across the table at Britta, who was trying to disentangle herself from Frankie without waking her. Britta's eyes met his, and then flicked down to Annie, who was draped over him, her face smushed into his chest, fast asleep. Maybe he ought to feel something—guilt, shame, at the very least some embarrassment—but he couldn't muster the energy. Britta gave him an awkward half-smile, and slipped out of the door of the RV.

It was going to be impossible to get out without disturbing Annie, but now that he was awake, he discovered that he really needed to pee, and to stretch out his legs and back. Plus his head ached like he was hungover, despite the total lack of alcohol last night. So he shuffled her awkwardly around, murmuring, "Go back to sleep," when she stirred and protested softly.

"Okay, Jeff," she mumbled, and a moment later she was gently snoring. He gave into the impulse to press a quick kiss to her hairline, before clambering precariously over the table and following Britta.

Outside, it was pleasantly brisk. The sun was just over the horizon and the sky was making a halfhearted attempt at being blue, as if it too was badly in need of coffee before it could get going. Greendale's weird, warm little microclimate was one of the reasons he stayed there—well, that and the fact that he had no other options—but sometimes it felt good to get out into the fresh mountain air.

When he returned from his trip to the bushes, Britta was leaning back against the giant hand, smoking an illicit cigarette. He managed not to hesitate as he strolled over to join her, but she still gave him an uncomfortably knowing look.

"I thought you'd quit?" he said, offense being the best defense and all.

"Eh. Sometimes my resistance is low. Speaking of which, you and Annie looked pretty cozy in there."

Dammit. "It was cold last night."

"Uh-huh."

"We're just friends."

"I know."

Jeff gave up. Britta could think whatever she wanted to think—it wasn't like he'd done anything he needed to hide.

Britta shifted impatiently, taking a drag on her cigarette. "You two should just go for it, you know," she said, exhaling smoke. "The whole dating thing."

Jeff gave her a look of disbelief. 

She shrugged. "Oh, I know, I'm usually the last person to recommend sleeping with Jeff Winger, but let's face it, you've been making googly eyes at each other for so long that it's stopped being funny. How long's it been—three years? Four?" She eyed him sideways. "Longer?"

He should've stayed in the RV. "I don't want to talk about it."

She shrugged, rubbing her back against the hand (it was still weirdly hot, and definitely wrong). "Fine by me, jerkface. Keep on suffering in silence, see if I care."

"Good."

Silence fell, and Jeff considered the conversation. Had Britta just given him her blessing? Not that it mattered. Britta needed to accept that the idea of Jeff-and-Annie was ridiculous, never going to happen. And Abed needed to let go of the idea that life—especially Jeff's life—was a show with a satisfying resolution after all the pain and struggle. They both needed to face the cold, hard truth: that the only pot of gold at the end of Jeff's 'redemption arc' was a shitty job at Greendale and a lot of solitary glasses of scotch after his friends all left him behind. Anything else was just fantasy.

"Hey, Jeff?" said Britta, after a few more minutes. She sounded suspiciously casual, and he resigned himself to further mockery—but it seemed Britta had other things on her mind. "What does poison ivy look like?"

He shot her a look. "Please tell me you didn't."

"I don't know! Maybe? That's why I'm asking, dummy. Is it 'leaves of three, okay to pee', or 'leaves of three, let them be'? I can never remember the rhyme."

"The latter."

"Well, crap," she said miserably.

Jeff sighed, and closed his eyes briefly. "C'mon, let's wake the others," he said. "Annie will probably have a complete first-aid kit stashed in her backpack, because she's pathologically over-prepared." He ignored Britta's muttered, _yeah and you love it_. "You really Britta'd this heart-to-heart," he said, with a certain amount of satisfaction.

"Shut up. Anyway, it should be heart-to-gaping-hole. Because you don't have a heart. And shut up."

Jeff shook his head. "I can't believe I nearly married you."

"I know—three times! It's weird, isn't it?" She nudged him with her shoulder, looking sly. "Hey, if Annie turns you down..."

He let her have the pause, indulgently not stepping on her joke even though he could see the punchline a mile away.

"...don't come crying to me because I'd rather die alone!" she finished, triumphantly.

"Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual," he retorted, hooking an arm around her neck in a 'hug' that was more wrestling move than comforting gesture.

"Ow—get off me, you big jerk! I'm rashy!" She squirmed, but he just tightened his grip.

"We're awake, WE'RE AWAKE!" came Frankie's grumpy shout, from inside the RV. "So you can stop with the weirdly incestuous display of sexual tension!"

"Ew," came Annie's voice, high and precise.

"For the love of god, will everybody just shut up?!" And Elroy was awake.

"Britta wiped her ass with poison ivy!" bellowed Jeff. He heard at least two groans and one mutter of _you're the worst_ before Britta surprised him with a sharp jab to the kidneys. He yelped and let go.

Britta nodded in satisfaction when he glared at her. "And that's how we do things in New York."


End file.
